


Whose Soul Is Wak'd For Me Alone

by winter156



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter156/pseuds/winter156
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Give people a mask and they will tell you the truth</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A masquerade was not Minerva McGonagall's idea of fun.

She reached for the invitation sitting on her desk. Reading it once more, she groaned inwardly. If she missed the party she could not claim work had kept her because summer had just begun, and as of a week prior Hogwarts had been vacated of students and staff alike. She, herself, could not even claim to be on the grounds of the place that- now more than in all its hollowed history- marked a defining point in the future of the Wizarding world.

Placing the invitation, and the portkey that came with it, back down atop the ornate desk that dominated her study, Minerva walked the short distance back to the adjoining living room. Looking out of the open balcony windows at the expanse of green, rolling hills washed in evening light, she contemplated not attending the masque despite not having a reason to excuse her absence.

"Come now, Tabby," Minerva startled at Albus' voice behind her. Twirling around, she scowled at the portrait on the opposite wall of the balcony. "It's time to have a little fun," he said, smile evident in his voice.

"How did you get in here?" She asked, exasperation seeping into her tone at his unwelcome intrusion.

"I have my ways," he winked at her, his eyes twinkling in amusement. He appraised the woman as she stalked toward him with feline grace. The twilight filtering behind Minerva showed her stunningly appropriate choice of costume. His eyebrows rose minutely at the impressive figure she cut in full Highland dress. She exuded confidence with every step, from the meticulously polished black Ghillie Brogues on her feet; to the solid black hose accented with blood red flashes that stopped just short of the knee (her right hose, he knew without needing to see it, concealed her Sgian Dubh); to the blood red tartan kilt- with a silver Gryffindor kilt pin attached to it- that fell to the point right before her knee began; to the elegant black dress sporran with silver cantle securely fastened around her tiny waist; to the very finely tailored Prince Charlie jacket with the accompanying waistcoat (that served to promote her bust and not hide it) which overlaid a finely crafted winged collared dress shirt with an accenting black bow tie. She even chose to wear a plaid over her left shoulder, making her look even more distinguished. The finishing touch was a solid black Glengarry atop her unbound black- with streaks of silver-mane. Albus doubted she even knew how utterly beautiful she was, juxtaposing such femininity in decidedly masculine dress. If he were alive, he would question his sexuality at seeing such a gorgeous woman. "You look absolutely radiant, my dear," he intoned with utmost sincerity, "I have no doubt you will more than impress Miss Granger."

Suddenly tense to the point of stillness, the Headmistress stopped in her tracks. She cut her burning green gaze the cool azure orbs of her dearest friend (his death did not nullify that fact). Albus held her gaze, challenging her to argue with him. "This is foolishness, Albus," Minerva seemed to deflate before his eyes. "I cannae do this," she unconsciously slipped into her Scottish brogue thinking of all the ways things could go wrong, "'Tis wrong." She started to pace, looking like an agitated lioness. "She was my student. And, she's only still a wee bairn. She shooldnae hae tae be saddled with someone my age."

"Minerva," Albus interrupted when it looked like the woman was only gaining speed, "your Scottish is showing my dear." Minerva shot him a murderous glare, making him chuckle at his own joke. Clearing his throat, Albus wished he could place a comforting hand on his dear friend's shoulder, knowing he could not he instead settled for giving her his kindest gaze, "She is no longer your student, Tabby. And, she hasn't been a child for far longer than you've loved her." Looking away from his steady gaze, Minerva roughly expelled a deep sigh. Albus continued undeterred, "And look at you Minerva," he waved a hand encompassing her whole being, "who wouldn't want to be straddled by you, my dear?"

She strongly staunched her urge to smile at his crass joke. "That is not what I said," she schooled her features and gave him a stern look, "your impropriety never ceases to amaze me."

"Thank you, my dear," he said as if accepting a compliment, "I do try." Noticing the waning of the twilight, Albus nodded toward the portkey on the desk, "You should get going Minerva."

"I don't know about this, Albus," she said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear (a nervous gesture she rarely indulged in), "the last time I saw her, she seemed to be in a relationship with Mister Weasley."

"It has been five years and nothing has come of that," he shrugged, "perhaps there was nothing there to begin with." He smiled as she moved to pick up the invitation once more, "And, let's not forget, she did send you a personal invitation."

"She has tried to keep in touch during her travels," Minerva stated absently as she looked through the letter once more, "so the personal invitation doesn't come as too much of a surprise." Her eyes stopping on the elegant script at the bottom of the parchment:

_P.S.- I know you hate these things, but please come. It will be a fun challenge trying figure out what mask you're wearing. And, also, there is something I would like to tell you face to face.  
-Hermione_

"Indeed," Albus whispered to himself noting that Minerva seemed lost in thought. Waving a hand in the direction of her simple but elegant black mask, Albus wordlessly and wandlessly moved the subtle cat mask in Minerva's direction. He magically attached it to her face, startling the witch for a second time that evening. Green orbs, visible through the eye slits of the mask, stared at him in something close to wonder. "How did you do that, Albus?" she asked in a shocked voice.

"I'm dead, not powerless," he answered simply as if his feat was mediocre and not extraordinary.

Closing her mouth, which had gaped open at the man's statement, and shaking her head, Minerva set about collecting her wand, "We will discuss this when I get back." Tucking her wand into the sleeve of her jacket she waited for the setting of the sun for the portkey to activate.

Reaching a delicate hand up to adjust the mask, she idly thought about how much she detested these social gatherings; especially, considering that someone had decided to add a theme to the ball. If not for the mandatory appearance she had to make at this particular party, at the behest of someone she was quickly figuring out she could deny nothing, the Headmistress would not have bothered with so much preparation. Grimacing into the final dying rays of the sun she idly entertained the idea of what she would do if she ever found out who had the brilliant idea to put on a masquerade.

Catching her reflection in one of the windows, the Headmistress frowned. _And here I thought the war would have staunched any desire in people for secrecy, masks, and the pretense of being someone you are not_. Sighing, and steeling her resolve, Minerva dropped the portkey into her palm and clutched it right as the final rays of the sun disappeared over the western horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Feeling the distinct pull behind her naval, Minerva was propelled through the fabric of space to the unknown locale determined by whoever planned the masque. Coming to an abrupt stop at her destination, the Headmistress fought off the slight nausea that portkey travel always gave her. For an inexplicable reason her mind traveled back to a Muggle book she had read several decades prior, at Albus' request, about space travel through tesseracts. She wondered momentarily if the author had ever inadvertently touched a portkey, the description of her tesseracts was quite similar to portkey travel.

_Or maybe she was a seer_ , Minerva thought wryly as she recalled the plot had something to do with children defeating a great darkness. Shaking her head at the direction of her thoughts, Minerva focused on the protkey that had brought her here (wherever here was). She thoughtfully considered the black, silk square of material. Her fingers glided over the two meticulously woven blood red capital Ms on the border of the square before she carefully tucked the handkerchief into her right sleeve. Leaving the thoughts of meaning and importance of the item for a later time, the Headmistress followed the path at her feet. Taking a deep breath, she finally noticed the smell of pine. Scanning her surroundings, she noted she had arrived in a small clearing that was surrounded by, from what she could see, an impressive forest.

Walking out of the tree line, Minerva felt herself pass through a barrier. She knew instinctively that her magical signature had just been read. The Headmistress was more than a little impressed at the security measures taken for the party. The locale of the ball was secret, accessible only by a premagicked portkey that activated only at a specific time on the date of the masque. And, a barrier barring anyone whose magical signature did not match the invitation list was erected in order to maintain the secrecy of those behind the masks but also assure their safety. Minerva knew the masquerade was bound to be full of politically minded people if so many precautions were taken to ensure its safety.

The thought of spending an entire evening in the company of people whom she normally attempted to avoid did not appeal to the woman. But, she could not deny the thrill of excitement that went through her every time she thought of being in the company of the female third of the Golden Trio. Pace unconsciously quickening, Minerva let her thoughts wonder unrestrained for a moment. Five years of corresponding with an intellectually stimulating woman who challenged her mind at every turn. Five years of getting to know Hermione on a deeply personal level, so much so that it challenged her boundaries of comfort and demanded reciprocity. Five years of sharing details of her everyday life, hopes, and dreams with someone who encouraged her passions and assuaged her fears. Five years of falling deeper in love with someone her mind protested, but her heart adored, and her body wanted. Five years of wanting a face to face meeting. Five years of interminable wait would be over tonight.

Cresting the small hill, the Headmistress paused at the grandeur before her. Sat atop a hill, standing tall and unmovable was a magnificent castle; in scope, smaller than Hogwarts, but in no way less striking. Torches illuminated a cobblestone path to the entrance. Tall, solid oak doors splayed open in welcome to the masked revelers walking the path to the castle. Resuming her brisk pace, the Headmistress quickly reached the entrance. Heart beating wildly, she walked through the doors into the spacious foyer that was crowded with excited people filling the high ceilings with chatter and laughter. The intrigue of secrecy creating a palpable atmosphere of exhilaration among the crowd.

"Aren't you one handsome devil?" Came a sultry voice from behind her. Minerva turned and almost let out a bark of laughter at immediately recognizing Xiomara. The flying instructor was decked out in her usual Quiddictch referee outfit. Her short, spiky, grey hair looking windswept, broom held in her right gloved hand, and goggles serving as her mask (though, they did not hide her face in the least) made her recognizable at a distance.

Feeling the effects of all the excitement of the night, Minerva allowed a wicked smile to play over her features. She stepped closer to the slightly shorter woman, minding to keep a respectable distance despite her playful attitude, "Thank you, Xiomara," she did not try to conceal her voice, "I shall keep that in mind when you're up for evaluation." She let her smile broaden, "I'm sure you'll be outstanding in all categories with compliments like that."

Minerva chuckled at the widening of her friend's eyes. "Oh my God," came the shocked response as yellow eyes roved over her once again, "I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but your robes," her eyes made another pass over the stunning woman, "you certainly know how to do yourself up."

Smiling genuinely at Xiomara, the Headmistress felt tension she did not know she had been carrying dissipate slightly. "Only on special occasions," she playfully lobbed back.

"My, my Headmistress," hawk eyes narrowed knowingly, "Who are you trying to impress?"

Picking up a flute of champagne from one of the roving wait staff, Minerva shrugged her shoulders before taking a sip of the alcohol. "If ye keep yer eyes open, ye may find out," she answered evenly, though lilting slightly into her Scottish brogue her tone did not betray the ribbon of nervousness that shocked her system, "Now, if ye'll excuse me, I've an admirer to unmask." Sweeping by the other woman, Minerva moved easily through the crowded entryway. People unconsciously recognizing the confidence, authority and grace with which she walked moved out of her way and gave her wide berth to move freely in the packed environment.

Entering the Great Hall of the castle, Minerva let out a low growl of frustration at the sheer number of people present, "I cannae believe this." It seemed that half the Wizarding world had been invited to the masque. Scanning the crowd, she noticed various people she recognized immediately but generally she had no idea who was hid behind the seemingly endless masks in the crowd, "This mey prove an arduous task."

* * *

Nursing a quickly warming glass of champagne, Minerva tried to find a way out of the circle of people she found herself caught in. Her mind was already slightly fuzzy at all the alcohol she had consumed to stay sane throughout the evening, and this discussion on some piece of legislation was not helping her condition in the least. At the first lull in conversation she excused herself. Needing a breath of fresh air, she exited the Great Hall and meandered her way aimlessly until she found herself staring up at the stars dotting the night sky.

Breathing in deeply, the animagus enjoyed the cool air. It felt cleansing after the oppressing heat of so many bodies in the Great Hall. Leaning back against the stone parapet, Minerva sagged in disappointment. She searched for Hermione for the better part of the evening. She had moved through the throng of people meticulously. She had joined circles of conversations ranging from magical creatures to Muggle relations in an attempt to find some clue as to Hermione's whereabouts. She had talked to countless women who made her heart skip a beat at the possibility of being the one she wanted but was let down each time. She had denied several invitations for dances from men and women as the night wore on. On those occasions, Minerva had felt eyes following her every move but she could never seem to pinpoint the location the scrutiny was coming from. The alcohol might have been to blame for the deadening of her senses, but there was only so much boredom the woman could stand.

Closing her eyes and not thinking about anything for a moment, the animagus simply enjoyed the muted tones reaching her ears of the jazzy music the band was currently playing in the Great Hall. At the inception of the evening, the Headmistress was unsure if she dreaded or desired meeting the young woman, but having been thwarted in her effort at finding Hermione, Minerva only felt an ache in the middle of her chest. Rubbing the middle of her chest in an attempt to assuage the ache, the witch contemplated leaving the party she was not even enjoying and trying to contact Hermione at another time.

Snapping her eyes open and standing erect at the sound of approaching footsteps, the witch readied her wand out of ingrained habit. Seeing the silhouette of a woman, she relaxed marginally. Something about the woman's gait intrigued Minerva. Studying what she could see, the Headmistress tried to identify who she was. Even though she was fairly certain she had not lain eyes on her all night, the woman seemed familiar. Green eyes slowly appraised the figure before her.

Unconsciously licking her lips, Minerva practically devoured the woman before her with her eyes. A fox mask mostly hid the woman's face, except for deep brown eyes peeking through the eye slits and plump, red lips that were drawn in a small smile. The animagus' green gaze took in the wild mane of brown curls falling unrestrained down the woman's back before moving down a slender neck and the expanse of skin the woman's shirt exposed. The billowy white shirt clung to the edge of each shoulder and scooped to reveal just enough cleavage to tantalize. Swallowing thickly, Minerva's eyes moved down the tiny waist accentuated by a black sash tied around it to the full, ruffled, multicolored skirt to dainty feet that she thought were bare for a moment before noticing the thin sandals the women was wearing. The costume was not overly revealing or risqué (as some she had seen that night) but the longer Minerva stared at the woman the faster her heart beat against her ribcage.

The stranger finally broke their standstill by slowly closing the distance between them. Minerva stood transfixed at the lithe grace in the woman's movements. She could only stare (her voice having mysteriously deserted her) as a small, delicate hand was outstretched in her directions followed by a voice she had only heard in her dreams for the past five years, "Could I have this dance?"


	3. Chapter 3

Heart suddenly beating wildly, Minerva felt lightheaded as she nodded and reached for the young woman's hand. Feeling a jolt of electricity travel up her arm when their hands touched, the older witch took in a shuddering breath. She had not realized, until that moment, how much she had missed the young witch. Despite their letters being a tangible link between them and a source of happiness for her, they were incomparable the physical presence of the woman before her.

Heart pounding loudly in her ears, Minerva's mind bombarded her with one thought: _I have to see her_. Reaching up with her unoccupied hand, the animagus lightly ran her fingers along the other witch's jaw before fluttering up to grasp the fox's mask. Silently breaking the charm that held the mask in place, Minerva breath seized in her chest as she slowly pulled the mask away. _She's beautiful_ , Minerva thought, her eyes roving over the face in front of her, as she felt fingers pull her own mask away.

Tossing the mask aside, the young woman boldly closed the distance between them, using the hand wrapped in her own to pull the older witch to her. Then, disentangling their hands, she lightly placed her hands around the Headmistress' waist and moved a step closer, forcing Minerva to place her hands on the younger witch's shoulders. Wrapping her arms more fully around the animagus and placing her head on a narrow shoulder, Hermione began moving them to the slow rhythm echoing up through the halls of the castle. Minerva moved almost mechanically before relaxing into Hermione, savoring the moment and turning her mind off to possible repercussions.

Hermione felt a shudder work its way up the Minerva's body and smiled as she cocked her head up to look into a green gaze."Cat got your tongue," she broke the silence playfully, smile curling her lips, amused at the unexpected timidity of the older witch. The smile faded slightly when, after several moments, no response was forthcoming. Stepping back slightly to get better look at the woman in front of her, "Too much, too soon?" Hermione worried her bottom lip at the prolonged silence, "Say something, Minerva."

Minerva licked dry lips as she stared down in to brown depths, " I think I'm having a wee heart attack," she deadpanned.

Hermione shook her head releasing a relived laugh, "Is that all?" She smirked as she reached up a hand to caress Minerva's check, thumb tracing the strong contours of the Headmistress' face. "And here I thought my reappearance would engender a much stronger reaction," she moved her fingers to lightly outline the shape of Minerva's lips, pleased to feel a quick intake of breath at the action, "I was hoping for something more along the lines of heart stopping."

"Is it nae enough that you set it aflame?" They stopped moving, ignoring the din of the crowd and music filtering through to them. "Ye inspire it to try and burst out of my chest." Losing herself in Hermione's eyes, Minerva continued unabated. "Ye excite it to beat a staccato with yer name in every note." Lowering her forehead to rest on Hermione's, the animagus closed her eyes and breathed the scent of the young woman into her being, confirming her presence, "I have missed ye, Hermione," came the honest and heartfelt rasp.

Taking in a shaky breath, Hermione tightened her hold on the older witch. "I've missed you too, Minerva," she breathed out. "I was tempted to come back so many times, but you weren't ready. We weren't ready."

"Aye," Hermione could feel Minerva's raised eyebrow against her forehead, "and are we ready now?"

"That's what I'm here to find out," Hermione cocked her head to the side and whispered into Minerva's ear, "Take me home, Minerva."

Obeying the request before even considering it, Minerva aparated them both to the private quarters of her home. Immediately realizing what she had done, Minerva released her hold on the younger witch. Hermione looked around the spacious room, noting the understated elegance of everything around her, "You follow direction extremely well, Headmistress."

Despite her rising panic, Minerva could not help but mirror Hermione's smile, "Oh hush, ye cheeky thing." Looking into the face of the very beautiful woman Hermione had become, Minerva took a step back unable to contain the nervousness about where they were invariably heading. "We cannae do this Hermione," she said panic gripping her heart. She noted the look of challenge on Hermione's face at her words. "Ye were ma student," the Headmistress tried to explain.

Nodding in agreement, but stepping closer to the retreating witch, Hermione smiled, "But, I'm five years beyond that being a significant excuse."

Amusement danced in brown eyes as the venerable Headmistress of Hogwarts took another step back. "I'm over three times yer age," green eye met brown trying to convey the severity of the situation.

Hermione's eyes raked over the woman still fully clothed in Highland dress, drinking in every inch. "You certainly know how to wear age well," she rasped sincerely, her eyes moving back to the Headmistress' face; but strayed momentarily to Minerva's mouth before flitting back up to hold the older woman's green gaze, "Neither am I a child, nor am I dismissed of common sense," she spoke quietly but confidently, not breaking eye contact. "I know exactly what I'm doing," she answered Minerva's unspoken question, "I want this as much as you do, Minerva."

Another step back had Minerva with her back firmly thudding against her bedroom door. Licking her lips nervously, the Headmistress looked around for another route of escape. Hermione quickly cut off her remaining options as she took another step forward and placed both hands on either side of Minerva's body, effectively pinning her against the wall without actually touching her. The animagus swallowed thickly, not sure if she wanted the young witch closer or further away. Her sensitive nostrils catching Hermione's distinctive scent, her ears hearing the slight hitch in breath, and her eyes taking in the slight flush and dilating pupils, Minerva's body decided that she definitely wanted Hermione closer. Much closer.

Her mind rebelling against her body's wants, the older witch tried one final time, "What aboot Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione bent her elbows and obliterated the space separating their bodies. Both women sighed at the contact, even though they were both still fully clothed there was something distinctly intimate about their position. The younger witch licked her lips, looking up into an emerald gaze, "I love Ron," she completely ignored the tensing of Minerva's frame, moving her hands off the wall and placing them on the Headmistress waist, "he's one of my best friends," she could feel the woman slightly relaxing, "but I am not in love with Ron, or attracted to him in any physical or romantic way."

Still tense, but due almost entirely with the proximity of the young woman, and not the topic of their conversation, Minerva broke eye contact. "Then why did ye kiss him at the conclusion of the final battle?" The older witch asked more out of curiosity, not doubting that if Hermione said she was not in love with the young Weasley, then she meant it.

"Well, he kissed me, not the other way around," Hermione responded factually, "and I responded until my brain caught up with whom, exactly, I was kissing."

Minerva tucked a stray curl behind Hermione's ear before averting her eyes from the intense chocolate gaze directed at her. "What if this is another ridiculous action of yer body, and yer mind just has nae had time to catch up yet?" Minerva asked genuinely concerned about that possibility.

"Then, I'm afraid, it may never catch up," Hermione caught the older woman's gaze and looked at her openly before lowering her lips to the Minerva's ear and whispering softly, "Minerva McGonagall, I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you standing regally, if a bit impatiently, at the entrance of Hogwarts waiting for all the first years," Hermione smiled at the memory, her voice infusing the smile into her words. "Granted I did not know it was love, but I knew it was a great admiration and instant spark of something I didn't know how to describe at the time." Her eyes glazed over as she lost herself to memories. "I didn't really know what it was until the Yule Ball; when I realized that I was more than a brain, but did indeed have a body. You have been the standard by which everyone is measured; and everyone has fallen short." The younger paused to lick her lips, lightly touching the ear she was speaking into and inadvertently driving the Headmistress to distraction. "I have had feelings for you for as long as I have known you," her words were soft but crashed loudly into Minerva's mind, "and if right now, this moment, is some knee-jerk response, and a mistake," moving her head back to be able to look the animagus in the face, Hermione's lips hovered over the older witch's as she breathed the last words on her lips, "then, for the first time in my life, I will turn off my mind and allow my heart to make a fool of me."

The words broke through Minerva's remaining doubts. She surged up to capture plump lips with her own. One arm snaking around Hermione's waist and holding her tightly against her; the other, gently holding the back of Hermione's neck as her lips ravaged the young woman's mouth. She was not quite sure who opened their mouth first, but the touch of tongues set fire to her already sensitized nerves. She could feel a pulsing need intensify and tighten her lower abdomen, moisture pooling at the juncture of her thighs. Moaning into Hermione's mouth she took several steps away from the door feeling a heady desire consume her as Hermione's hands rhythmically gripped her lower back.

Minerva broke the kiss as oxygen became a necessity. Breathing raggedly, Minerva tried to catch her breath to formulate coherent words, "I cannae exactly explain how I feel about ye," she kissed Hermione's forehead, "Ma feelings are understandably complicated when it come to ye." She kissed the edge of Hermione's lips, "All I know is that somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing a lass and started seeing a woman with an incredible mind, indomitable will, unbelievable strength and enormous heart." Dipping her head to taste supple lips again, Minerva immediately deepened to kiss, opening her mouth to allow Hermione entrance into her mouth. Pulling back reluctantly, but needing to say the words that she had never expressed in her letters but that she felt deep in her heart, Minerva brought both hands up to cup Hermione's face, "I love ye, Hermione."

Hermione threaded her hands through ebony hair, pulling the older witch into a crushing kiss that spoke of reciprocation and desperate need. The kiss sent a jolt straight to Minerva's center. The animagus began moving them again, allowing her kisses to move across the young witch's jaw as a hand delicately traced an exposed shoulder and collar bone. Almost simultaneously, both witches realized they were wearing entirely too many clothes for the things they had in mind to do. Immediately, two pairs of impatient hands began tugging at clothes.

"While I appreciate the effort you went through putting this ensemble together," Hermione ran her hands up Minerva's clothed arms, "I don't want to spend half the night taking it off," she said before whispering a spell that vanished their clothes, "I will have the pleasure of undressing you next time."

"In a hurry?" Minerva choked out, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes devoured the vision before her. Hermione completely, utterly in all her naked glory. Her arousal invaded the animagus' senses; Minerva could practically taste the young woman in front of her. She felt a gush of wetness coat her inner thighs at the vision of a needy Hermione, hardened nipples and glistening curls evident of the fact.

"I've waited my whole life for this," Hermione said absently her breathing hitching slightly as she took in the vision of a naked, aroused Minerva McGonagall less than a foot from her own naked body. Her mind catching up with her mouth, the young witch blushed slightly and averted her gaze realizing what she had just revealed; though it would have been evident eventually. Minerva's heart melted and she felt an inexplicable surge of possessiveness at the knowledge that she was Hermione's first.

Closing the scant distance between then, Minerva gently pulled Hermione into a passionate kiss. Both witches gasped into the other's mouth at the first contact of bare flesh. Hermione trembled at the intensity of the feeling of being pressed fully along Minerva; naked breasts, bellies and thighs touching and setting her already sensitized skin on fire.

Moving them back without breaking the kiss, Minerva softly lowered the young witch to the spacious bed. Breath coming in shallow drags, Minerva looked down at Hermione through half lidded eyes. She swallowed thickly, checking the desire to simply ravish what was so willingly laid before her. Crawling gracefully over the younger witch, Minerva settled between Hermione's thighs. "So beautiful," she husked her voice almost a purr echoing from within her chest. She lowered herself until flesh met flesh. She groaned feeling Hermione's readiness coat her stomach which she had lowered to the young woman's center.

Needing to taste Hermione's lips again she lowered her mouth to capture parted lips. Minerva allowed more of her weight to fall on the young witch as the kiss deepened but was careful to use her forearms to keep most of her weight off the young woman. Feeling the unconscious undulation of Hermione's hips and the arch of her back begging for more contact, Minerva pulled back slightly peppering Hermione's face with kisses. Hermione's arms circled her shoulders and held her still, trying to prevent her from moving further away.

Minerva paused a moment to look deep into brown orbs, "Anything ye dinnae like, or want, or feel comfortable with…" Hermione surged up and cut her off with a kiss that left them both slightly dazed and breathless.

Bringing up a hand to cup the face above her in reassurance, Hermione looked at Minerva with all the love she felt, "I want everything with you."

Minerva plunged her tongue into Hermione's mouth, kissing her possessively as she thrust into Hermione with just enough pressure to tantalize the young woman but not relieve the increasingly unbearable ache growing between her legs. Releasing the succulent mouth as Hermione gasped for breath, Minerva moved down to lay open mouth kisses down the young woman's neck, noting the spots that made Hermione gasp in pleasure. Reaching Hermione's frantically beating pulse point, Minerva gave into her baser instincts and marked the witch beneath her. "Mine," she growled, laving the mark with her tongue.

"Yes," Hermione hissed, her hands tightly gripping Minerva's back, "Always."

Kissing down Hermione's chest, she could feel the young witch arch into her, trying to get her mouth closer to where she needed it. Not willing to tease Hermione, Minerva complied, taking a hardened, pink nub into her mouth while simultaneously taking its twin between her fingers. A heady moan erupted from Hermione, urging Minerva to continue loving the generous breasts before her.

Hermione's hands raked up and down Minerva's back and sides, touching places that made the older witch momentarily lose herself and moan into the breast still attached to her mouth. When small hands found her breasts and fingers started gently pinching her hard and very sensitive nipples Minerva released Hermione's breasts and arched into the contact, mewling at the sensation that went straight to her center.

Both witches panted with need.

Minerva found Hermione's mouth, their breasts pressed together, hardened nipples brushing against each other, as hands moved to explore lower regions. Minerva wanted to taste Hermione, but this first time she had to see her; Minerva had to see the young woman's face as she sent her over the edge. Groaning as hands slipped into soaking wet folds, Minerva had to control the urge to just plunge into Hermione. Hermione's hips bucked as she continued to gently run her fingers along the length of her slit, bumping every so often into the buddle of nerves at its apex.

Whimpering with need, Hermione bit her bottom lip, her eyes closed at the intensity of the sensation. "Please," she begged, not sure what she needed exactly, but certain Minerva would give it to her.

The animagus kissed Hermione long and deep as one hand focused on Hermione's clit and the other pinched painfully erect nipples. Hermione bucked into her hand. Feeling she was ready, Minerva slid a finger into Hermione firmly pushing past the resistance she met. Brown eyes, that were almost black with need, popped open at the twinge of pain and the sudden feeling of fullness.

Green eyes locked with brown, as their bodies still momentarily; Minerva allowing Hermione to get used to the new sensation. Hermione surged up to capture Minerva's mouth, the movement changing the angle of her body, allowing the animagus' finger to go deeper. Moaning into Minerva's mouth, Hermione slowly rocked against the digit inside her.

Quivering with her own desire, Minerva met Hermione thrust for thrust. Feeling how close the young witch was, Minerva pressed the heel of her hand into Hermione's clit every time she thrust into her. The sound of flesh meeting flesh, panting, and moaning filled the room.

Minerva was so focused on Hermione that she failed to notice when the young woman had slid a hand down to her center. Not until Hermione firmly entered her did she realize what was happening. A low moan erupted from her mouth as she clamped around the finger inside her. "I need you to fall with me," Hermione's hoarse voice supplied as she experimentally thrust into her.

Falling into a frenzied rhythm, both women felt the coiled tension in their abdomen reach a breaking point. Feeling Hermione's inner muscles grip her finger in release sent Minerva careening over the edge as well. Both their names echoed throughout the room as they climaxed.

Minerva collapsed onto Hermione, her limbs too weak to hold her up. After a few moment of exhausted panting evened out into more unlabored breaths, Minerva removed her hand from inside Hermione. She felt Hermione do the same (feeling a keen sense of loss at the motion). The animagus kissed the young woman's neck before she rolled off her so as not to crush her.

"That was incredible," Hermione exclaimed a beatific smile lighting up her feature. Happy exhaustion pulling her toward sleep, the young witch turned and wrapped her arms around the older witch laying her head on Minerva's chest. She could hear the strong, steady beat of the heart she innately knew belonged to her. Smiling sleepily when she felt Minerva's strong arms envelop her, Hermione almost missed the softly spoken words.

Heart still trembling with the intensity of the night, and fear creeping in despite what they had shared, Minerva tightened her hold on Hermione. She could feel sleep pulling at both of them. Laying a kiss to the top of Hermione's wild mane, Minerva released the fear that gripped her the hardest, "This may not end well."

Warmth spreading from the center of her chest at Hermione's sleepy rejoinder, Minerva succumbed to sleep with the younger woman's words bouncing in her head magically dispelling her fears.

_Then, let's make sure it doesn't end_.

_Fin_


End file.
